And Juliet's not even my real name
by shady jane
Summary: A version of the party in Romeo and Juliet where they meet and have thier first kiss. It's not very similar to the play, but I like it. The princess and the punk sort of thing. Read and reveiw and all that! [oneshot]


A/N: My god, it's been forever since I went on this account. This is my first fanfiction since like 7th grade.

Anyway. So this isn't exactly like Romeo and Juliet. It's not supposed to be. It's a version. It's kind of modernedayish.

So since I've not been on this in forever, you'll all give me reveiws right?

Disclaimer: I don't own Shakespeare, BCGB, Rainbows, Ralph Lauren, Catherine Malandrino, or any other stuff like that. yay.

He's not, I suppose, the kind of boy I would normally say was physically attractive. Not that I care about that.

Don't you hate it when people say that? Yes they do care. Everyone cares. You can't lie and say it doesn't. You care. It may not be the most important thing in a relationship, but you still care a little.

But he walked right in to my sweet sixteen and started setting up for the DJ booth. I knew I should have trusted daddy to hire a DJ. I got a freaking teenager. His record box was tiny, and he didn't look like he knew what he was doing. Not only that, but he had a Mohawk. That would be great for my image. He wouldn't play any music that people could grind to. I was suddenly sure he would be playing punk rock screamo music all night.

I continued to set up; the guests wouldn't arrive for another hour and a half or so. I took out my cell phone. Daddy didn't answer.

Daddy is such a hypocrite. He's always telling me he cares but all he's really doing is competing for my love against mom. And let me tell you, money doesn't buy love.

I suppose though, you could delude yourself into thinking that. I've gotten plenty of attention from various boys, but they've always ended up taking advantage of my money.

I wondered if either of my parents would even show up for my party at all. It cost enough; they might as well show.

The room was just about completely set up, the last of the decorations were being hung, so I left, and put on my dress.

I pulled up the zipper in the back room and looked at myself in the mirror. My god I loved that dress. The dress was expensive, but it was well worth it. Not that the dress was anything that special, I just loved what it represented. I loved to do anything to piss off my parents.

The dress was black and had a slit down the front that almost reached my belly button, with a thin black string lacing up the front holding it together just enough. The bottom was made of many different materials; the prominent being velvet, and it barely covered my hip. Not that I was slutty. But my parents were so obsessed with me being high society and all that; I loved using their money to break a rule.

I slipped on my fishnets and then my stilettos. 'Perfect. Now my parents had better show,' I thought, 'or I'll dress like a common street whore for nothing.'

I still had a while before I would make my grand entrance. I walked back in to check on the finalizations of the decorations. Yep, they looked great. The theme of my party was "A black tie affair", so everyone would be wearing black dresses, and the whole room looked like a beautiful sophisticated event, with roses on each table, and a ton of room to dance, and little champagne glasses filled with black and white M&M's with "Brielle's sweet sixteen" Engraved on each glass

"Well you look different" I heard a voice say to me.

"What?" I turned around to see the same boy who was my DJ. I didn't realize it, but we were alone together in this room. The decorators had all left. He had stayed.

"That's just not how you were dressed earlier." He said.

It was in fact NOT how I was earlier dressed. When I was in here when he had seen me first, I was wearing a black polka dotted tank top by Katherine Malandrino with a hot pink Ralph Lauren sweat jacket over it with a white miniskirt by BCGB and Rainbow sandals.

"Oh. Well then. Thanks for noticing?" I said, entirely not sure how to respond.

"It's not a good thing. Don't thank me." He said.

"Excuse me?" I said, putting my hands on my hips.

"You know. You just look fake."

"What the hell? Is this any way to speak to your employer?"

"You may be paying me, but you're not my employer. There ain't no way I'm listening to a sweet sixteen and talk to her with respect"

"You don't wanna respect me? Fine. Don't. Say goodbye to your paycheck."

"As if I care about the money. I'm here because I truly want to be." He said, and sounded totally sarcastic saying it.

"What the hell? I should fire you right now."

"As if you would. You can't find another DJ."

"What is the matter with you?"

"Why are you dressed like that?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because even though you looked incredibly preppy and rich and out of my league, when you walked in, you were hot. Now you look like you're trying to belong in a scene where you just don't. Belong, I mean."

"Oh fuck you!" I yelled.

"I'd love to. But I'm working right now. Meet me in the back once the party starts? I'll grant your little request."

My jaw dropped. "Leave!"

"But you don't want me to."

"Yes. I do. You're a terrible person." I said, emphasizing terrible.

"I win." He said.

"You win? Sorry. You lose, actually."

"I got your attention, didn't I?"

"Yes. But let me tell you, the kind of attention you're getting right now? It's not winning."

"How else could I get you to notice a guy like me? You judged me the second you walked in here."

"Where is this coming from, asshole?"

"You saw my Mohawk and said 'he's trouble, I don't him at my party'"

"And what if I did?"

"When I see a girl who I know I want as soon as I see her, I've gotta make her talk to me somehow."

Okay. So he totally insulted me, and then told me he thought I was totally hot. I wanted to fire him so badly. I could have called security any time I wanted to. But I didn't, I just looked at him for a few minutes.

"Excuse me?" my party planner poked her head in. "It's time to do your hair."

I left, fuming, but fascinated. I got my hair done, my make up done. I had originally planned on having tons of eyeliner put on, but I changed my mind thinking about this boy. The party started, there were about 400 people there. I was, I suppose, the popular girl in school. I made my grand entrance, walking out on from the stage through smoke, everyone cheered, yada yada. Right as the party started, the boy talked to a person I didn't recognize, obviously an assistant or something, and ducked out. He said meet him in the back once the party started. Was he not kidding?

I was overwhelmed with curiosity. I couldn't help it, I went to the back.

I saw him.

"You came." He said.

"You're going to hell, I hope you know that." I said.

"If you think I sin with my unworthy body, then let me tell you, you're gonna think my real sin is my lips. Because I want to kiss you right now so badly."

I sat down in front of him. "And suddenly you care about what's a sin? A saint like me won't let a pilgrim like you get past her hands." I said, putting my palms against his.

"You know you have lips too. If all you use are your hands they'll get bored."

"My lips are plenty entertained thank you. I use them to pray."

"Well you touched my hands. Can I touch your lips?"

"I barely know you. What I know I'm not so fond of. I won't kiss you." But sure enough, I was kissed. He leaned in, our hands still touching, and he kissed me. I may or may not have kissed back, but it doesn't matter. I mean, it wasn't my fault he kissed me, right?

"Well you granted this pilgrims prayer. And you didn't kiss me. And you know what? You taste more of sin than I do."

"Your sin stained my lips. You think I want it? You think I wanted that?"

"Then give my sin back, you whore."

He leaned in and kissed me again, this time I know I kissed back. I kissed this boy who called me a whore. He was so mean to me. But I just couldn't resist him. We didn't get along, but we had this attraction to each other. I was preppy; he was punk. But at that moment, I was happy to be kissing him. I pulled back eventually though.

"You certainly know what you're doing."

"I'm in way over my head right now." He said.

"You don't kiss that way." I said. He laughed.

"I know how to kiss." He said. "And you're not so bad yourself. You kiss by the book."

"Then why are you in over your head?"

"Because I think I may have fallen for you. I just met you. I want to see you again but I know I can't. And I plain piss you off."

"Yeah. You do. But I can't resist you either."

"What's your name?" He asked me.

"Juliet."

Juliet? Where in hell did that come from? My name was Brielle. I know I couldn't tell him my real name. We couldn't see each other again. People would talk.

"Romeo." He said. I wondered if that was his real name.

But we saw each other again.

And again.

And yet, again.

Star-crossed?

You tell me.  
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REVEIW. that is all.


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